


There's Something in the Closet

by Zakle



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: Gen, Horror, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Monica's Secret Closet, Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 19:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19932973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zakle/pseuds/Zakle
Summary: Maybe Monica should've been more careful with what she put in the closet





	There's Something in the Closet

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write a horror Friends fanfiction involving Monica's secret closet. So here it is or, at least, one variation of it. It's very likely there will be more, unrelated, Friends horrors down the road.

By the time Monica Bing came home, the closet door was already unhinged and resting on a nearby wall, her tools scattered across the floor. She felt several emotions at once—anger, embarrassment, denial, concern—they went by too quick to fully experience.

"Oh no," she muttered, grimacing. She searched for Chandler, for his slightly ashamed slightly amused expression, who, undoubtedly, would round the corner. "I can explain." Except he didn't appear.

Distracted by the door, she hadn't noticed the slick floor until she was right on top of it. Her legs went out from under her. Something soaked through her black sweater, to her bare skin, and she pursed her lips.

"Chandler! What did you spill?"

She expected a swift answer, a denial, anything from him, but once again there was nothing, not even a 'honey, are you alright?'

The apartment was quiet. It was eerie; she shuddered. Where the hell was her husband? It wasn't like him to not come running when she called. With sudden apprehension, she stood and looked down. It was large, a vibrant red; how had she missed it? It was noticeable, so noticeable, and yet she walked right by it. To get to the closet ... the closet.

Monica followed the blood trail with her widened eyes. One step, two steps, three steps, she walked backwards. Her back met the apartment door, but she couldn't make herself turn the knob.

She couldn't look away.

Chandler stared back with wide, unseeing eyes, his body was—Monica's throat tightened, cutting off the scream before it could begin—it was missing.

She whimpered, finally looking away, her eyes falling to the phone next to the couch. She had to call someone, she had to, anything. Maybe she was seeing wrong, maybe he was still intact.

But to do that she had to walk over the blood. Her skin itched, reminding her what she had slipped in, who it belonged to. No. No. She slowly shook her head, and felt behind her for the knob.

It was solid in her hand, cool to the touch. Joey would help her call the police and everything would be—

Monica's heart stopped, her eyes trailing back to the closet where something was flickering across the slicked floor.

She finally screamed.


End file.
